


No Tea, Some Sympathy

by RebaK1tten



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ableist Language, Age Difference, Coach trying to be supportive, Coming Out, I think he does okay, M/M, early in relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 11:40:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2771693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebaK1tten/pseuds/RebaK1tten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coach finds out about Peter and Stiles and has a little talk with Stiles.<br/>...........<br/>Coach snorts and says, “Let me tell you something, Stiles. Let me share something that my father told me a long time ago, maybe when I was your age. I’ll pass on some wisdom to you, okay?”</p>
<p>“Sure, Coach, thanks,” Stiles says, leaning forward to absorb this wisdom gained from years of experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Tea, Some Sympathy

“Stilinski!” Coach bellows. “In my office, now.”

Scott looks at his friend and whispers, “What’s going on?”

“No idea,” Stiles whispers back, looking at Coach striding to his make-shift office in the corner of the locker room, while everyone looks at him. “It’s not like he’s going to cut me from the team, who else would keep the bench warm?”

“Do you want me to wait?” Scott asks, almost sincerely, and Stiles knows that he’s meeting Kira outside.

“No, go ahead,” Stiles answers, punching him lightly on the arm, careful not to hurt himself. “I know you have plans. I’ll text you about it later.”

“Stilinski! Sometime today if that’s not too inconvenient!”

“Coming, Coach!” Stiles yells, throwing his dirty clothes into bag and weaving his way towards the Coach’s office, ignoring the snorts and comments from the few players still getting dressed.

Stiles enters and stands awkwardly by the door until Coach says, “Sit.”

“Okay,” he says, perching on the edge of the chair. “Everything okay? Did I…am I in trouble?”

Coach looks at him for a long moment and finally says, “There are no good restaurants in Beacon Hills, do you know that?”

_Well that’s left field,_ Stiles thinks and scratches his head. “I’ve been told that, yeah.”

“It’s true,” Coach says and rests his elbows on his desk, leaning towards Stiles. “I have to go to Oroville for a good dinner, a nice dinner.”

“Sure, there’s some good restaurants there,” Stiles says, thinking of the places that he and Peter go to.

“There’s an Italian restaurant downtown that my wife likes,” Coach says. He pulls some paperclips out of a bowl on his desk and arranges them in a neat row in front of him. “They have a chicken marsala she likes. I usually get the lasagna, but she likes the chicken, so every so often, when I feel particularly guilty we go there and she has the chicken she likes.” Coach stops and looks at him. “There’s too many mushrooms. Why are there so many mushrooms if it’s a chicken dish? I don’t understand but she likes it.”

“Sure, Coach,” Stiles nods. _Strange, but entertaining and beats doing homework_.

“There’s a few other restaurants downtown there. There’s a Thai place across the street,” Coach says, eyes boring into Stiles.

_Oh shit. Shit shit shit_. “Is there?”

“Yeah. I was there, right across the street on Saturday night. Just right across the street from the Thai restaurant that’s pretty popular. Guess Saturday is date night.” Coach looks at the paperclips and flips every other one so they’re in opposite directions. “Me, I don’t like Thai food. I went to a Thai restaurant and they had a lot of dishes with lamb. I don’t like lamb. They’re cute, you know. I only like to eat ugly animals.”

“That’s um… enlightened I guess,” Stiles stammers and pulls the neckline of his shirt away. The room’s gotten warm in the last few minutes.

Coach looks at him for at least a minute, without saying anything. Finally he leans across the desk and says, “Stiles…I’m not friends with your father, but I know him a little and to me, he seems like an okay kind of guy. No bullshit, but reasonable. Do you….” He pauses, and Stiles can see his jaw working. “Do you feel safe at home? Like you can be yourself and be safe?”

Stiles’ jaw drops and he shakes his head before he answers, “Yeah. Yeah my dad he’s good, we’re cool. There’s no problem.”

“So he knows you’re gay and he’s okay with that? The man I saw you with last weekend… well at first I thought it was your dad and let me tell you, if it was I wouldn’t be talking with you, I’d be talking with the police. Or some police, cause that would be your father and probably not the right person to talk with… Anyway, your father knows you’re gay and there’s not a problem with that?”

“I’m bisexual actually, and he knows. And he knows that I’ve been dating someone. He doesn’t know a lot about the guy, but he knows there’s a guy,” Stiles answers, feeling his face turn beet red. His ears actually hurt, they feel so hot.

“So he doesn’t know the man you’re seeing is older than you – apparently a good deal older than you?”

Stiles shakes his head and says, “No. But you know I am 18, I turned 18 last month and…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Coach interrupts. “And I’m sure there was nothing illegal until then, right? Believe me, I checked your records on Monday for your age. If you were under 18, I would have had to have called someone. I’m not losing my job for you little delinquents.” He stops and stares at Stiles until Stiles feels like slipping off his chair.

“It’s okay, Coach, really. Peter’s older…that’s his name, Peter. He’s older, but he’s really good to me and he treats me well. Totally consensual.”

Coach snorts and says, “Let me tell you something, Stiles. Let me share something that my father told me a long time ago, maybe when I was your age. I’ll pass on some wisdom to you, okay?”

“Sure, Coach, thanks,” Stiles says, leaning forward to absorb this wisdom gained from years of experience.

“Stiles…men are disgusting pigs. All men. Some of us cover it well, but deep down, men are pigs,” Coach says. “I don’t know if you understand this as you’re young, but trust me. I’m so certain of this, that if I could, I’d have my daughter be a lesbian, just so she could avoid men.”

“I don’t think it works like that,” Stiles says, looking carefully at Coach.

“Of course it doesn’t!” he yells, slamming a fist down on his desk. “I’m just explaining to this to you, in case your father hasn’t. This person you’re seeing, Peter. He’s a pig, a disgusting pig. Just keep that in mind.”

_Holy crap, defcon three._ “He’s actually…he’s really okay, he’s good to me,” Stiles says quietly. _Wolf, not pig._

“He respects you? He understands that you’re only eighteen years old and still in high school?” Coach asks, rising out of his chair.

Stiles scoots his chair back a bit and waits for Coach to sit back down. “Yeah, he does. He’s not pushy or anything and… yeah I trust him.” _Mostly._

“But your father doesn’t know who he is?”

Stiles squirms in his chair. “Well, it’s kind of awkward…”

“I bet. It might be awkward, introducing someone your father’s age to him as your boyfriend,” Coach says. “Look, here’s the thing to remember. Just because you agreed to something once, doesn’t mean that you’ve agreed to everything. Just because you say yes once it doesn’t mean that it’s always a yes, you’re allowed to change your mind and you’re allowed to say no. Understand?” Coach points his finger at him and Stiles can’t do anything but blink.

“Yes, Coach,” he says, nodding. “Yes, I understand.” _God, Coach might be scarier than Peter._

“And condoms. Don’t believe that bullshit that you can do it once without or whatever else he might say. Remember the pig thing. Stay safe.”

_That boat’s sailed, but not the problem Coach expects._ “Yes, Coach, we’re very safe.” _Other than claws and giant teeth._

Coach leans back in his chair, lacing his fingers together and resting them on his belly. Peter does that sometimes, although his stomach is flat and he has lickable abs. And Coach’s abs are something that Stiles wants to never think about ever.

“So do your friends like your boyfriend? No one has a problem with the older man shoving you against his car?”

Stiles rubs his eyes and sits quietly before answering. “They haven’t met him. It’s been…he’s older and we’ve been quiet about it. They know I’m seeing someone, but so far…”

Coach snorts and says, “You haven’t told McCall? I thought you two were brothers or something? And you haven’t told him. Hmm.” Coach sighs and tilts his head, squinting at Stiles who tries his hardest not to squirm. “Tell you what, Stilinski. Today is Tuesday. You tell me no later than Friday that you’ve told your friends and your father about your boyfriend and we’ll never discuss this again.”

Stiles knows he looks like a fish, with his mouth opening and closing; Peter tells him often enough. “Why would you do that? I’m 18, Coach.”

The older man shrugs and grins, saying, “Cause I can. Cause you little shits need someone to look out for you. Look Stiles, are you embarrassed about dating him?”

“No!” _Partially reformed psycho werewolf back from the dead who makes me scream when I come – little bit, yeah._

“Is he embarrassed to be seen with you?”

_Probably. Fragile, flailing, spastic human._ “No, of course not. We’re just keeping it on the down low.”

“Good,” Coach says and stands. “You have until Friday to out yourselves to your friends and father or I’ll do it. And then we never talk about this again, agreed?”

“Yes, Coach, thank you, Coach.” Stiles nods back and manages to get out of the room slamming into only one cabinet on the way out of the room.

In his jeep, Stiles bangs his head against the steering wheel until he realizes that it hurts. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck,” he mutters wrapping his arms around his head and trying to catch his breath.

After a couple of minutes with his eyes shut and his favorite music on the radio, he picks up his phone and calls Peter.

“Hey, Peter, it’s me. What do you think about going to Derek’s tonight and telling the pack about us?”

There’s a pause before Peter says, “We could. I’m sure there’s more than a little suspicion; showers only get rid of so much scent. And you know if they try to kill me, I’ll use you as a shield.”

“That’s to be expected,” Stiles says, smiling. It’s not like he thought he’d get an argument or anything, Peter probably considers it bragging. But still this part was easy. Now the next part. “And on Thursday, my dad’s home. I thought you could pick me up at home and officially meet him – as my boyfriend.”

“Well.” There’s a longer pause this time and finally Peter says, “From what you’ve told me, he’s against murder, right?”

“Yeah, unlike some who will remain nameless, he tends not to kill people, especially not in our living room. And I thought just a quick intro rather than trying to do dinner; I don’t really want the two of you in a room together with knives just yet.”

“I’m not likely to get parental approval, Stiles.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Stiles sighs resting his head against the headrest. “But I’m tired of lying to my dad and we have to do it sometime, so rip off the band-aid and do it all at once.”

“You’re going to owe me, Stiles,” Peter purrs.

“You’re an asshole. I’ll see you at Derek’s.” He says, hanging up before Peter can say anything else. Grinning, he starts the jeep, heading towards the exit.

**Author's Note:**

> Minor ableist language. Let me know if there's other tags needed.
> 
> Come say hello on Tumblr, I'm Rebakitt3n.


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